


All Your Fault

by layna_lass



Category: The Selection Series - Kiera Cass
Genre: AU, Christmas Fluff, Erik/Eikko is not important, F/M, Keadlyn forever
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-19
Updated: 2016-05-19
Packaged: 2018-06-09 11:14:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6903565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/layna_lass/pseuds/layna_lass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kile Woodwork is a restless soul. Eadlyn Schreave is destined to rule. When she sends him away to pursue his dream and ascends to the throne as the unmarried Queen of Illea, their story seems to be at an end. But then comes Christmas....</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Your Fault

**Author's Note:**

> This is an AU where Eadlyn decides not to marry and prove to her people that she cares about them on her own. In this AU Eadlyn didn't have feelings for Erik/Eikko (because let's be honest, we all saw it coming, but it was way rushed). Hope you enjoy!

Snow doesn't fall in Angeles. That's the price of year-round warmth and sun; no variety. No crisp, fiery autumns, no fresh, brisk springs, and no snapping, ivory winters. Normally, that doesn't bother me. But no matter how much I love my home, I’ve always regretted missing out on snow. Especially at Christmas.

"Eady if you lean any closer you're going to fall out of the plane," Mom teases.

"Look at it!" I say excitedly, ignoring her and pressing my face even further into the window. "Look how white it is!"

As the plane descends, the clouds part to reveal the regal, snow-capped beauty of the Alps. No matter how many times I see it, it still takes my breath away. 

"Ahren said they still have the sleds and skis and snowboards!" Osten jiggles in his seat like a three-year-old, positively vibrating with energy. "And we can build snow forts and have snowball fights together, and roll each other into giant-"

"Osten," Dad interrupts gently, "I know you're excited, but remember, Ahren is the Prince Consort, and married to the Queen of France. This Christmas may be different than the last time we were here."

Osten's face falls, and I feel a similar dampening of spirits at the reminder. This Christmas will be different, for both Ahren and me. Because now I’m the Queen of Illea, and things are expected of me. No matter how much I may long for a break, there’s just no such thing as taking two weeks off to spend Christmas with my family in France anymore. 

The plane lands with silky smooth precision, and on the edge of the runway I can already see Ahren and Camille waiting for us. My heart does a little tap dancing routine at the sight of my twin. Even with the multitudes of phone calls and letters we exchange, having him so far away is like living life torn in half. 

Osten is the first one off the plane, shooting out like a bullet and tackling Ahren in a bear hug. Kaden follows at a more subdued face, but as hard as he tries to stay neutral, I haven’t seen him this happy in weeks. I wait impatiently at the top of the stairs, stuck behind my parents, who stroll off at a leisurely pace. This is my one day, before Neena and Lady Brice come with their tasks and endless lists of duties, to simply enjoy my family. I don’t want to waste a second of it.

Then they’re off and I’m vaulting down the stairs, heedless of both my heels and my crown. Ahren scoops me up and squeezes me almost as hard as I squeeze him, laughing in my ear the whole time. When he puts me back down on the ground, his eyes are shining like… well… Christmas lights. 

Then I embrace the golden-haired beauty at his side, my lovely sister-in-law, Camille. With her hair swept up into a low chignon and her bevy of attendants momentarily dismissed, it’s easy to forget how powerful she is, and simply see her as the girl my brother married. And the ankle-length fur coat she wears does a good job of masking the growing roundness of her stomach. 

“It’s been so long, I’ve missed you both so much,” I gush, at the same time as Camille and Ahren say the same thing, which makes him laugh again.

“I can’t believe the last time I saw you was the Coronation!” Ahren hugs me again. “It feels like years!”

“Well you two have certainly kept busy,” I tease, motioning to the small bump of Camille’s belly.

If possible, Ahren’s grin grows even wider, and he puts an arm around his wife. “I know, I can’t believe that either.”

“Do you know if it’s a girl or a boy yet?” I ask Camille.

She smiles and threads her fingers through Ahren’s. “Not yet, but they say soon. The due date is in July.”

“Come on you three let’s get inside!” Dad calls, already heading towards the enormous Winter Palace’s gates. “Can’t have my future grandbaby catching a cold!”

Ahren rolls his eyes. “Dad they can’t catch colds in the womb.”

“You can never be too sure.” He wags a finger at us before looping his arm back around Mom’s waist, and following Osten and Kaden into the outer courtyard.

“He’s right, we can’t stand here talking all day,” Camille gently chides. “Eadlyn, you must be tired and freezing. We can get you some hot chocolate, or coffee, whichever you prefer, and talk some more then.”

“Good idea,” Ahren agrees, stomping his feet. “I’m still not use to the cold, and I’ve been here for a month.”

As we go down the path towards the Palace, Ahren hangs back a little, letting Camille go ahead of us. “So, you never did tell me whether or not the Legers are coming.”

“No, they’re not,” I sigh, still disappointed. “They wanted to, but someone had to run the Palace while we were away, and with the recent problems with Marid….”

He nods thoughtfully. “I see. But the Woodworks are still scheduled to fly in next week, right?”

My heart leaps back up again. “Yes, and I feel like I won’t survive waiting that long!”

He smirks at me. “You were the one who sent Kile away, you know.”

“I know.” I poke him in the ribs. “It was the right thing to do. It doesn’t mean I don’t miss him like crazy.”

Even the thought of seeing my old friend again was enough to bring me back to walking on air. We’d kept in touch a little, but we were both busy with our work, and I didn’t want to distract him from the very thing I’d sent him away for. In spite of this, there were so many days when I wished talking to him was still as easy as walking over to his room. Despite both Miss Marlee’s and Kile’s assurances that they didn’t mind, I kept it the way it was. Clearing the things he’d left out seemed too much like saying he wasn’t welcome, and that was the one thing he would always be. 

“I know you’re like super powerful and in high demand and stuff,” Ahren jokes, breaking me out of my thoughts, “but I hope you’re still available to be humiliatingly crushed in our traditional epic snow battle.”

“I don’t know,” I muse. “I don’t want you to declare war or anything after I grind your face into defeat.”

“Oh really?” With no warning, he shoots forward, past Camille, calling over his shoulder, “Race you inside!”

“No fair!” I yell, but as I run after him, I’m so happy I feel like dancing in the snow.


End file.
